Disconnected Number
by ParisAmy
Summary: So when he can no longer feel her presence, she’s on that long walk again, and he still continues to call that disconnected number, that died with her, years before. Oneshot. Skate.


Well, i've had this written for about 6 months now and after much re-typing and 'should I, shouldn't I' about posting, I finally am. Thanks to JateSkateFate815- whose read this about 3 times and xKatie-Bearx for reading this!

* * *

Disconnected Number

"_You ready?" _

"_Sure" _

"_Ok, so we just press the button and then say what we need to say" _

* * *

If you were to ask him what love was before Kate, he'd say he didn't know. How would he? He was a conman. Though, that didn't mean he didn't have a heart or a desire to be loved by someone other than the people that _had_ to. Although them years had long passed. To know what love was he'd have to have allowed himself to fall. He'd had to have put himself out there. Put _James _out there. Something which didn't sit to well with him, or Sawyer, the person that runs his life. That accumulates money for him to live on.

He almost found love though, almost tasted, touched, felt, what it was. What it would be like for _him_. James.

He was on the cliff preparing- mentally- to fall, to let go, and maybe he shouldn't have questioned himself, maybe he should have just fallen, but it was a question that _needed _to be asked; would he sink or swim?

This time he'd sink. He'd be sucked under, though he did little fighting to reach the surface. And as he was pulled to the bottom of a vast ocean a thought crossed his mind; maybe she wasn't 'the one'. Sawyer had won yet again, and James, once again drowned- transformed -back into a person that people loathed.

The next time- Kate's time- he'd swim, and no matter what he'd force himself to stay afloat, because this _was _love. This wasn't just your heart beating faster or butterflies in your stomach every time you saw her, no, this was him then and there knowing that he'd die for this person. He loved her, and she loved him back, and later, much later, he'd thank her for that.

So, to him, love is not what you head tells you. It was your heart does. Its what allows you to take the plunge and just fall. Love is obsession and passion and you mustn't confuse that with pointless infatuation which, for a moment, you feel like indulging in. For that is missing everything that matters. Trust, responsibility, and above all, not hurting the person you love. You mustn't take what you _want_- or say you _need_- simply because you can.

Love is when you'd do everything you could for someone. Its when you'll jump on a plane in a heartbreak to be next to that person. Its when there your first call, when you need someone to talk to. It's when the person knows everything about you- every dark secret- and they're still by your side. Its when you wake up next to that person and think 'I don't want anything more'.

Its someone you cant imagine being in a world- in _this_ world- without.

Maybe that was his problem, because he hadn't imagined a world were they weren't together. He assumed they'd be one of those couples that grow old and die _together_. Wrapped in each others arms, never letting go, because this was _more _than a crush, _more_ than love. This was an unimaginable bond between two people. This was a marriage, and he never really understood the saying 'when two people become one' but that's what had happened to them. They ran on the same mind, each others knowledge stored into one, beautiful one and yes, it does sound corny and a bit of a cliché but that's what had happened, and that's what makes it more heartbreakingly sad. When she died, her mind was still with him, he knew exactly what she would have done on every bump in the road he found himself coming across. He also knew what he would have suggested, which would then be followed by some playful banter from both of them until, eventually they did it her way.

He would say this is the story of his life but really it isn't. His life was nothing until Kate. His life is nothing now, except for the one reminder that everyday he wishes would grow _more_ like her.

* * *

They'd lived a content life, after the island, after the court cases, after the birth of there child. But now things have changed, years have passed, important memories have been missed. Ones that you only get to see once in a lifetime. It hurts that they've been missed, that they wasn't side by side when it was happening, sharing small smiles and silent glances.

He's alone, but he always sets a place at the table for her when meal times come. He always makes two drinks instead of one. Always turns the TV over when her favourite shows come on, even if it means missing his own, he always does it. He always will. Just like he'll always warm her side of the bed and flick through the photo album and re-tell every story behind the frozen images.

Maybe its denial, maybe its grief. Maybe even it's a combination of the two. Or it could be something else interlay. But when you can no longer just 'drop in', you have to call, and he'll always say 'come round in an hour'. Maybe that's when you begin to wonder if something's wrong.

Though he knows something's wrong. Especially when he has to make up excuses so he'll have the time to put her belongings away. He'll hide them like he's embarrassed, ashamed about the fact that he _does_ still remember her. Every feature and trait of hers is memorized, engraved in his mind. Every freckle on her face, every glint in her eyes, will take him back to that place, were maybe something like this wouldn't have happened.

And when people try to remind him that she _is_ gone, he'll agree and say she'll be back soon. People will give him a bemused look; re-phrase their statement, she _is _dead. Then he can't believe their disbelief, because he was sure that she'd only gone for a walk, and soon he'd hear her key scrape against the inside of the lock, he'd hear her sighs as she took off her shoes and enter there home that has been _there's _for so long. It just doesn't seem right calling it his. It never was. It was always there's. Kate's and Sawyer's. Through it all though, he begins to wonder where the denial came from? Or is he going crazy? How do you know? When you start seeing a white rabbit that promises to take you to a wonderland were she'll be? Because he knows she's left his side in this world, yet he continues to play games with himself and others.

In reality it is his home. No memory of Kate; the women he loved, is here. It is hidden. Gone. Only making brief appearances here and there. Like her shoes by the chair and the old bobble used to scrap up her hair on the bedside table. He always liked her hair down, wild and free, just like her. But when it was tied back he could see her face more, see her freckles and hazel eyes. He didn't know which he liked best, up or down? They were total opposites, but each held something that he was drawn too. Maybe that was how it was for her, choosing between him and Jack? He wouldn't know though. All he knows is that she chose him and he will be eternally grateful.

He notices how people change when someone dies. Changing their phrase of speech, now all he hears is 'Do you want some company tonight?' Asking as if he's going to jump off a bridge and kill himself. He has to admit though, it did cross his mind. Why wouldn't someone want to be near- be with- the person they love. "Do you want some company tonight?" He sighs. Denial or grief, or something else kicks in and he cant understand why someone would ask him that. For she is still here, on this earth that they all are on. She's just missing from the ceremonies they still hold for the oceanic survivors of 815. Just like she was missing when there daughter and her husband exchanged their wedding vows.

Most people believe life ends with death, and that is all, theirs nothing else. You aren't both going for a long walk, because once they put you inside your coffin and close it, that is it, theirs no more chapters to the story. To _your_ story, that you've both written with great care.

His life has ended with hers, some people may think. Although to him it hasn't, for he is sure that his heart wouldn't beat if she was dead, and after all she's still on that walk that he claims she never gets tired of going on.

So when he can no longer feel her presence, she's on that long walk again, and he still continues to call that disconnected number, that died with her, years before.

* * *

"_Hey, this is Kate…_

…_and Sawyer_

_…were not in at the moment, so leave a message after the tone and we'll get back to you-_

_If we like you, that is-_

_Sawyer!_

_What?_

_"If we like you" what is that?…is it still recording?_

_….No"_

* * *

"The number you're calling has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you've reached this recording in error, please check the number and dial again."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

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End file.
